


invisible string

by uhyagka



Category: Warrior Nun (TV)
Genre: Alternate Universe - Boarding School, Beatrice's POV, F/F, Friends to Lovers, Heist, Internalized Homophobia, JC makes an appearance but not for long, Private Catholic Boarding School Roommates AU baby, Sharing a Bed, Slow Burn, also mary/lilith if you squint, also set in england, also there is football occasionally, ava is an idiot... beatrice is an idiot..., it's idiots to lovers, outrageously ugly school uniforms, touchstarved Beatrice + love language of touch Ava, unrequited love... OR IS IT?
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2020-07-30
Updated: 2020-08-06
Packaged: 2021-03-06 08:00:46
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 3
Words: 15,736
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/25610035
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/uhyagka/pseuds/uhyagka
Summary: When Beatrice imagined her last year at Saint Areala's Boarding School for Girls, she could not have predicted the sprightly American girl that would barrel into her dorm room and uproot her life completely. Nor could she have imagined she'd be hauled into a campaign for Ava's Head Girl candidature, and the subterfuge that apparently came with it.
Relationships: Sister Beatrice/Ava Silva
Comments: 47
Kudos: 331





	1. 20 marshmallows

Great. She had a roommate.

Beatrice rolled in her rain battered suitcase behind her and shouldered off her other soaked through bags onto her bed, sparing a disheartened glance at the Armageddon that was her roommate's luggage.

On the right side of their little room, lay what appeared to be a rubbish bag full of clothing and a rucksack haphazardly tipped over, leaving sweet wrappers, empty bottles and writing utensils to grace the unmade surface of the bed. Beatrice felt a sigh escape her.

She was fortunate enough to have been granted a solitary room last year, but clearly she had not retained said good fortune through to her final year at this place. It was rumored to be a luck draw that decided who was assigned to what room and with whom. But contrary to this, Lilith, with her very rich and very philanthropist parents, had been given a one person bedroom with the most conveniently placed plug sockets and actually functioning radiators. Two years in a row. Suffice to say she was the envy of the school.

Beatrice had maintained in her head that if she was studious enough and polite enough and smart enough last year, that perhaps Mother Superion would have noticed and bequeathed upon her another one person bedroom for this year, but alas. No.

She sighed again as she unzipped her suitcase to rearrange her belongings, which consisted mostly of her uniform and assorted turtlenecks for the weekends and trips to town, but those were few and far between. Her shoes, that she had only just polished, seemed to gleam mischievously at her misfortune as she tucked them beneath her bed. On the covers of her Language textbooks that she stacked on her little desk, college students grasping folders and papers, who walked alongside their friends, seemed to be laughing with each other at the pitiful sight that was Beatrice, who forlornly wished she had savored every moment alone last year just a little more.

Beatrice rolled her eyes at herself. She was being ridiculous, she knew, so she steadfastly decided then and there that whoever this roommate was, whether they be untidy or mean or stinky or loud, Beatrice would not mind. In fact, Beatrice would be positively holy.

She laid carefully her Bible on her bedside table, and traced with her finger the gold cross that decorated the cover. She was just about to put down her meticulously cared for succulent beside it when boisterous laughter resounded down the hall outside her room. A grating American accent came after, and Beatrice did not have enough time to send a desperate plea to God before the door rattled open and there stood the girl beside Camila. More American babble continued to flow from her mouth as she spoke to Camila, the sweetheart, who listened with rapt attention.

"And, yeah. That's basically how I managed to fit fifteen marshmallows into my mouth," the American grinned. "Pretty impressive, right?"

Camila nodded excitedly, "Very! And why exactly did you do this in the first place?"

"Oh, I just wanted to see how many I could manage. I'm aiming for 20 next time."

Beatrice had had enough marshmallow talk. She cleared her throat delicately.

Ava turned her gaze from Camila up to meet Beatrice, and those twinkling black eyes seemed to spark a little. Beatrice clasped her hands behind her back.

"It's nice to meet you," Beatrice spoke evenly. A classic greeting, polite, comfortable. A good choice. "I'm Beatrice."

Perhaps not such a good choice, because Ava proceeded to laugh stiffly. "Yeah, you too. I'm Ava. I... guess we're roomies?"

Beatrice nodded.

An awkward silence.

"Well!" Camila smiled, encouraging Ava into the room with a gentle pat on the back, "I'll leave you guys to get acquainted with each other. Dinner at 8! Toodles!"

Camila shut the door behind her, and Beatrice watched as Ava went to her side of the room and sat down. Beatrice sat down as well.

"Sooo..." Ava began. Her legs swung beneath her. "I'm Ava. Oh. I already said that," she laughed. "Ava Silva. I actually started here this year."

"Yes, I gathered."

"And you?" 

"I've been here since year 10."

"Cool." Ava hummed and picked at a loose thread of her duvet cover. "Lovely weather?"

Beatrice looked out their window when a blast of lightning arced through the sky. The rain continued to pelt down unrelentingly.

"Yes, mid September British weather can be delightful."

A flicker of mirth lightened Ava's dark eyes for a moment. "You lived here all your life?"

"I've been here and there. But yes, mostly England."

"Ah! Cool."

"I promise it's not this dreary all year round."

"I'll take your word for it," Ava winked.

As Ava stood and busied her self with organizing her belongings, Beatrice took a moment to catch her breath. The wink had been unexpected.

Beatrice followed suit and found a place to allocate her succulent, as well as everything else, and by the time she had settled on her bed Camila was opening the door with her blindingly warm smile and saying "Dinner time!"

"Yes!" Ava grinned, immediately dumping all her books on the floor.

The trio made their way down to the cantine, Camila pointing out people she ought to befriend or avoid, classrooms that would be well-frequented by her, and teachers that gave detentions if you chewed gum in their class. Ava paid rapt attention, nodding and ah-ing along.

Watching Ava eat was a sight to behold. As Beatrice cut apart her broccoli into bite sized pieces, Ava tore into her chicken with a fervor that left Beatrice a little afraid.

Beatrice completed her nightly routine, before settling at her desk for a quick perusal through her textbooks. Their first lessons of the year would likely just be going through the syllabus, but Beatrice liked to feel prepared. Mother Superion, who taught French and Latin, was an ardent believer in pop quizzes at the most unexpected of times. She briefly brushed up on her conjugations as Ava came through their door, fresh from her shower. Beatrice did not look up.

"Man, your showers suck," a shiver ran through her words, and Beatrice heard fumbling behind her. It was true: the showers here tended to err on the side of ice cold. 

Out of her periphery, she saw Ava crouched down beside the radiator.

"Those don't work." Beatrice said.

"What do you mean they don't work?"

Beatrice turned around, and regretted it the moment she saw Ava in sleep shorts and a tank top. Beads of water rolled from her damp hair and down her back.

Beatrice swiveled back around and stared uselessly at her textbook. "I mean, they don't work."

Ava grumbled and huffed and sighed. "Isn't the tuition for this place like... a lot? And the radiators don't work? And the chicken is dry? And the showers are cold?"

"The chicken is dry?"

"At dinner. It was dry."

"Didn't seem to stop you from gorging yourself on it."

Ava grumbled again, and Beatrice imagined she was pouting. "I was hungry," she said.

A few more minutes passed of Beatrice trying to focus on the subjunctive tense and Ava trying to get the radiator to work. Neither were successful. 

Beatrice closed her book. She felt confident enough that she would be able to brace any pop quiz that came her way tomorrow, and she settled into bed. Ava still looked on at the radiator with a deep sadness, as she clutched her arms around herself and her inadequate pajamas.

"Perhaps," Beatrice began, "You ought to wear a sweatshirt to bed. The nights here are cold."

Ava looked glum. "England sucks."

Beatrice sighed. "Yes."

Ava shuffled over to her rubbish bag of clothing she had yet to organize and pulled out a sweatshirt and joggers, and proceeded to whip off her shorts to change.

Beatrice turned over in her bed and faced the wall. It did not help. The image of her new roommate's legs did not want to leave Beatrice's mind.

"Ugh, that's _way_ better," Ava groaned, hopping into bed. Beatrice took this cue to roll back over.

Ava wiggled about for a moment, a content smile on her face as she pulled the duvet right up to her chin.

She sighed, seemingly warm enough at last. "I think I might petition to get our radiator fixed. This is an injustice."

Beatrice closed her eyes. "There are many injustices in the world. We cannot battle all of them."

"So- what? You're just going to roll over and take it?"

"Being a little cold in the winter will not kill us."

"So you're going to roll over and take it. Well Beatrice, I'm not. I'm a fighter. I'm going to bring about change to this school. "

Beatrice felt a smile worm it's way to her lips. "I'm sure you will."

"Hey, don't say it like that. I will! Just you wait!"

Beatrice rolled her eyes beneath her closed eyelids. "Goodnight, Ava."

A sigh. "Night, roomie."

When the sun rose the following day, so did Beatrice. She was on her way back from her morning shower when she heard a loud wail come from her room, and Beatrice opened the door with lightning quick speed. 

Beatrice had expected the worst: Ava, dead on the floor. Ava, fighting off a burglar. Ava, being assailed by a swarm of bees. 

Instead when Beatrice walked in, Ava was holding up her uniform and looking like she was about to cry. 

"Beatrice..." Ava looked at her with wide, scared eyes. "Is this the uniform?" 

Beatrice briefly closed her eyes. "Yes." 

"Beatrice..." 

Beatrice walked into the room and tucked away her toiletries. "Yes, Ava?" 

"I can't wear this." 

"I'm afraid you'll have to." 

"Beatrice," Ava whined. 

Beatrice turned around to look at her. Ava still held the uniform in her grasp, clutching at the navy fabric with desperation. "Ava. This is a British school." 

"But I didn't think it'd be so ugly!" Ava sighed, "I thought it would be cute. And stuff. With like, knee high socks and plaited skirts. Instead, this shirt is... like this. Why does it have ruffles, Beatrice?" 

Beatrice looked down at the shirt Ava was gesturing to. Over the right pocket of the shirt was the school's insignia, and blue embroideries looped around the buttons to contrast with the naturally creamy-yellow colour of it. At the end of the sleeves were ruffles. Admittedly it was hideous. 

The rest of the uniform was tamer, however. The navy jumper Ava held would cover the embroideries, and the pinstriped blazer was sometimes rolled up at the sleeves by the 'cooler' students. The skirt was pleated, but it also reached the shins. 

Supposedly the sleeve ruffles had been a mistake by the administration a few years ago, and they'd been too proud to change it since. Now, Saint Areala's School for Girls' signature look was not their insignia, but instead their dreadful uniform.

"It's not a big deal, Ava. Everyone has to wear it." 

"And... the tie?"

"And the tie." 

Ava sighed, but started to change out of her pajamas anyway. Beatrice busied herself with packing her schoolbag with the necessary books. 

A few minutes passed peacefully, before Ava was making noise again. 

"Problems?" 

Ava growled. "I can't get this stupid tie on." 

"Do they not teach children how to tie ties in America?" 

"No, actually, they do not." 

"Well, first of all you have to lower the thicker side and get the thinner end up higher-- yes, no-- higher. Yes, and then you flip one end over the other-- No, wait. No the other one. No--" 

"Can't you just do it for me?" 

Beatrice paused. "Okay." 

Beatrice did not bother to analyze why she felt flustered at the thought of getting any closer to this girl, and instead advanced with the mindset of a professional.

She delicately looped the two ends of the fabric and fashioned it into a perfect tie. There. She patted the knot and looked up at Ava as she did so, to find Ava looking right back. 

Beatrice stepped away and cleared her throat. "You'll have to learn to tie it yourself." 

"Totally." Ava's dark eyes did not stop boring into Beatrice's. "But, like, until I learn, you can still help me right?" 

"Of course. It would be unchristian of me not to." 

The day passed fairly quickly. Polite greetings were made to teachers and students she had not seen yesterday, summer homework was handed in and Mother Superion had deigned not to give pop quizzes in French. All in all a pleasant day, up until her final lesson. PE.

Physical Education had never been an issue for Beatrice. She trained hard and was rewarded for it by a strong body and quick feet. Her extracurricular kickboxing didn't seem to hurt, either.

Except, for the life of her, Beatrice could not seem to score a single goal when Ava was there; red, sweaty, and completely out of breath.

Beatrice chanced one more shot at the goal, but with a 'WOO, GO BEATRICE' in that familiar American accent of Ava's, the ball went flying completely to the left.

"Oh, shit," she heard.

With a short burst of the whistle, the match was finished. 

Beatrice bent over, resting her hands on her knees and panting lightly. She had essentially made their team lose, and the embarrassment felt suffocating.

She heard someone jog over, and their hand ghosted over her shoulder for a second.

Beatrice looked up. Ava.

Beatrice was angry. Beatrice was _mad._ It was Ava's fault, that this had happened.

"Hey, you good Bea?" Ava tapped the other girl's arm, only for Beatrice to recoil slightly at the warm jolt she felt from the nickname and the feel of Ava's hot palm on her skin.

She clenched her jaw. "I'm fine."

"You sure? Camila told me you were a total beast at soccer- I mean- football. Like, killer."

Beatrice felt that embarrassment from earlier increase tenfold.

"I said I was fine."

Ava looked uncertain.

The darker haired girl acquiesced at the concern in Ava's eyes eventually. A muscle in her jaw quivered before she spoke: "Actually, Ava, I would have preferred if you hadn't distracted me with that last goal."

"Oh," Ava said, and the already present flush on her face deepened. "I'm sorry."

Beatrice immediately felt terrible. It was hardly Ava's fault that she was so... distracted by her. "No--no." She shook her head and closed her eyes. "I'm sorry. I shouldn't have blamed you. I'm just... not on top of my game today." She wiped her hand across her forehead, and found it dripping in sweat.

"Yeah?" Ava prodded, as they made their way to the changing rooms. "What's up?"

Beatrice shook her head, but her eyes fell instinctively to the notch between Ava's collarbones, that rose and fell with her breathing and glistened with sweat. "Nothing."

Ava rolled her eyes, apparently oblivious. "Whatever. I'll get you to trust me one day, roomie."

The rest of the week flew by as the school body settled into the rhythm of the new year. Homework was already being assigned, and teachers were already giving out detentions.

That is, teachers were already giving out detentions to Ava Silva.

When the door opened and a dejected Ava trudged into their shared room, Beatrice tutted from her position at her desk.

"Hng. Don't tut me."

Beatrice heard what she presumed to be Ava collapsing onto her bed.

A muffled voice came through: "This school is fucking crazy."

"Language."

"They made me clean the floor of the Biology room. Did you hear me, Beatrice? I was on my hands and knees scrubbing that floor for _two_ hours. It's inhumane! It's unjust! It's a violation of my _rights_ \--"

"What did you do?"

"... I made goo explode everywhere."

"Then that is probably why you scrubbed the floor for two hours."

"Yeah yeah, whatever goody two-shoes. I bet _you've_ never had a detention."

Beatrice laughed at the thought. "Nope."

"Well this officially means I'm cooler than you."

"I don't think it works like that."

"Yup, it does." Sheets crinkled as Ava moved about. "I'm the coolest girl here. I got a detention in my first week."

Beatrice hummed and highlighted a few words of her textbook. "Camila once got a detention on the first day of the year."

"WHAT?"

Ava shot over to Beatrice's desk, and kneeled down.

"HUH?"

"I said, Camila--"

"I heard what you said, but, you're telling me, that Camila, that sweet sweet child, who apologizes on my behalf to God whenever I swear, got a detention on her first day? You're saying that--that--she's cooler than me?"

Beatrice looked straight into Ava's eyes as she delivered the killing blow. "Yes."

Ava keeled over backwards, now lying on the floor. "What a badass. What'd she do?"

"She admitted to punching Crimson."

"Crimson-? Oh! That pale, freakishly tall ginger girl that keeps looking at me like I'm prey?"

"Yes, her."

"Nice. Camila rocks. What did Crimson do?"

"You know, run of the mill bullying. She'd said some unkind things to me. Um. Implying I was... gay. Which obviously is not true," Beatrice hurried to add. "But it had been coming for many years. Not only had Crimson been unkind to me, but essentially the entire student body."

"Yeah, she's been saying some pretty nasty stuff to me, too. I'm on this scholarship, right?" Beatrice nodded in surprise at this new information, "and apparently it's gotten out. Anyway, she won't stop taunting me about it, saying, well. Mean stuff."

Beatrice felt a flare of anger rise in her chest. Perhaps she ought to have another chat with Crimson. Or, sic Camila on her again.

"If you have any more trouble with her, please do not hesitate to tell me or Camila. I'm sure Camila could deal with her fairly swiftly."

"Huh." Ava sighed, and smiled dreamily. "Cool. I think I'm in love with Camila."

Beatrice could not help the flush that rose to her cheeks, nor the jolt of irrational jealousy that shot through her stomach. It was a joke, obviously, but Beatrice could not breathe for a moment.

"She's very lovable," Beatrice eventually managed.

"Well, not as lovable as you," Ava laughed, and swatted her legs at Beatrice's.

Beatrice rolled her eyes, but her heart fluttered. She'd over-analyse that later.

* * *

The next weekend rolled around eventually, and Beatrice found herself warming even further to Ava's antics. Perhaps God had not forsaken her this year like she had initially thought upon discovering she was to have a roommate. And yet, when she looked at Ava and blushed at Ava and stuttered at Ava, she could feel the beginnings of shame curl around her stomach, smoky tendrils of guilt worming their way into her interactions with the girl. Beatrice would find herself turning frigid the moment Ava would lean in too close, or smile too much, or look at her too intently with those eyes of hers.

Ava, the champ, seemed to adjust to it well enough. But Beatrice would catch hurt flit across her face in the moments when Ava thought she wasn't looking, and Beatrice would have to brace herself to keep from vomiting up the guilt.

In other news, Ava had been raving on about a party that was supposedly going down in an empty field a half hour away, and seemed positively giddy at the prospect of alcohol. Beatrice, not so much.

"You _have_ to come, Bea. You have to!"

"Au contraire, I am under absolutely no obligation to come."

Ava groaned, " _Au contraire_ , I am your roommate and your friend, and I want you there with me!"

Beatrice kept her gaze firmly on her notebook, and ignored the soft burn of Ava's hand around her arm. "En revanche, mon ami, je dois rester ici et travailler." Ava's face was blank. "Lundi, j'ai une control avec Mother Superion en français, et j'ai peur. Je ne suis pas prêt."

"I... did not understand a word of that, but if you're talking about your french test on Monday, that sounds like pretty good french to me! Bea! Come on! It's the beginning of the year. You've got plenty of time to become fluent."

Beatrice felt her resolve beginning to fracture, and she knew she was doomed.

Frankly, Beatrice's wildest fantasies did not come true. As much as she'd envisioned a care-free night filled with booze and spin the bottle and truth or dare, it mostly consisted of Beatrice sitting with Camila and Mary a ways away, and glaring at the boy Ava had been talking to the whole night.

She was miserable. And cold. And sober.

On the half hour trek back to the school, Beatrice was even miserable-r.

"And, like, he was definitely flirting with me. Talking about like, showers, and shit. And rolling with his presets-- PHEW. Camila, you did not tell me the boys over there looked like that."

Mary's eyes rolled so far back into her head she might've gone blind.

"And it was so fun! I had like, 3 beers, and I was immediately drunk. Isn't that great? Isn't it great we can drink at 18, here? Although, I'm not 18 yet but--"

"Yeah, real great," Mary grumbled as she readjusted her grip underneath Ava's arm to stop the girl from rolling into the road. Camila held up her other side.

"Hey! Bea! What did you think?" Ava shouted.

'Bea', was walking ahead by about 10 paces, and trying not to kick the rocks in her path like a little upset schoolgirl. She also didn't answer.

"Pfft... what's up with her?"

Beatrice kept walking. So what if Ava was flirting with a boy? So what if Ava wouldn't stop talking about him?

"He actually," Ava paused, and released a nervous giggle, "invited me on a date. Eek!"

If Beatrice had wall-phasing abilities, she would phase right though the floor into the hot, hot core of the earth. Instead, she stumbled over a stray pebble.

"But... I dunno if I'll go. He's like... _too_ hot. You know?"

Finally, by some divine blessing, they managed to sneak back onto school grounds with the help of Beatrice's uncanny flexibility, Camila's lock-picking skills, and Mary's ability to shut Ava up.

After Camila and Mary returned to their respective rooms, Ava and Beatrice were left alone. Beatrice, fortunately, was of sound enough mind to drag Ava through their nightly routine: brushing teeth, washing faces and changing into their pajamas, the last of which Ava struggled with. For whatever reason, she seemed incapable of putting her sweats on without falling over, so Beatrice held her steady, and then tucked her into bed.

The smile that came blooming forth as Beatrice pulled the duvet up to Ava's chin, made Beatrice feel a little better about risking expulsion just so she could watch Ava get plastered and flirt with a boy.

She was about to make her way to her own bed, when a hand snaked out from under Ava's duvet and grasped Beatrice's own. Beatrice stilled, and looked questioningly at Ava.

"You looked really hot tonight, Bea."

Beatrice expelled a breath. "Oh."

"Yeah. I know you exclusively wear turtlenecks when you're not in your uniform, but this turtleneck, like, _rocked_."

The darker haired girl swallowed thickly. "Thank you, Ava. You looked nice too."

Ava smiled goofily. 

Beatrice tried not to pay attention to how Ava's hand was still grasped around hers, nor how it squeezed gently now.

"Thanks, Beatrice. I'm--" and for a moment Ava looked away, a shadow of regret passing over her face. She worried her bottom lip. "I'm sorry for getting a little too rowdy. I know I pulled you away from a night of studying and-- and you didn't have much fun. I just thought that you needed a break, and we could dance, and play games, but then JC started--"

"It's okay, Ava." Beatrice unhooked her hand from the other girl's, and stood. "Try and get some sleep, okay? We have Mass tomorrow morning."

Ava looked down at Beatrice's hand, which now dangled by her side. "Okay. Night, Beatrice."

"Goodnight, Ava."

* * *

Beatrice often looked forward to Sunday Mass. The girls would make their way over to the cathedral that graced the other hill of their little town. From a birds eye view, Saint Areala's School for Girls was on one end, atop a hill that had a winding path down to the village roads, and across from that at the other end, stood the Cat's Cradle. At least, that's what Camila liked to call it.

Waking Ava up at the crack of dawn was something Beatrice was not looking forward to, however. Before even bothering to coax her awake, she found a spare Tylenol packet and bottle of water to give to her when she awoke, and went about her morning routine with her usual grace and calm. She saw Camila in the bathroom, who gave her a kind smile and tried to hip check her on the way out. Reflexively, Beatrice dodged it, and then apologised when Camila pouted with the strength of a thousand puppies.

Upon returning to her room, Ava had managed to end up on the floor.

Beatrice took a calming breath before approaching. She tried nudging her with her foot, gently. She whispered, "Psst, Ava."

No response.

Beatrice hiked her shin-length skirt up to kneel on the floor. She poked Ava's arm with the end of her toothbrush, but to no avail.

"Ava." She said, with a little more fortitude, yet Ava continued to snore softly; mouth open, drooling.

Ah, Beatrice thought. She'd heard of this trick. She took her forefinger and thumb, and squeezed Ava's nose for a few seconds before the girl came rocketing up for air, eyes wide as saucers.

Beatrice snatched her hand away and hid it behind her back.

"Ava. Good, you're awake."

"Beatrice. Oh my God. It was like I couldn't breath for a second. That's _weird_ , right?"

Beatrice cleared her throat. "A little."

"You think I've got spiders up there? Blocking my airflow?"

"Spiders?"

"In my nostrils." Ava tilted her head up so Beatrice could check.

"I don't think you have spiders in your nostrils."

"Well, can't you at least take a look?"

Beatrice was about to entertain this theory, when Ava suddenly snapped her head down and looked fearful.

"I have a headache."

"Yes, that follows--"

"The spiders have reached my brain."

Beatrice exhaled. "Take some pain medication. I left water and Tylenol on your bedside table, but you ought to hurry up. We leave for Mass in 15."

"Tylenol isn't gonna help when I've got _spiders_ \--"

"It was me who held your nose! It wakes people up if they can't breathe!"

Ava choked on her water, "What?"

"I--was trying to get you awake, and I've read that blocking airflow is a sure-fire way of waking someone up. I tried nudging you, I tried poking you, I tried calling your name. Nothing. You were out."

"So you tried to kill me."

"No!"

Despite Beatrice's protests, Ava would not stop chattering on to Camila and Mary about how she was rooming with her attempted murderer, and how she was fearing for her life as they made their way up to Sunday Mass. The horde of Saint Areala's girls proceeded through town, swallowing the streets with blotches of navy and ugly, creamy white.

Lilith, whom Beatrice had not seen since last year, came tottering up beside them, head held up and not deigning to look down at them.

"Beatrice," Lilith acknowledged.

"Lilith," Beatrice did the same.

"Are you well?"

"I'm well--"

"I'm well too, thanks for asking," Mary suddenly jutted in, and Lilith glanced at her.

"That's good to hear. I was actually talking to Beatrice, but sure, you can join in too."

Beatrice felt Ava brush closer to her and whisper, "who the fuck is she?"

"Language," Beatrice scolded, and fell back with Ava as Lilith and Mary continued bickering up ahead. "Lilith goes here."

"Well I've never seen her before."

"She's..." Beatrice winced, "and I hate to admit this, but she's kind of a big deal."

Ava rolled her eyes, "ugh. I hate that those words even came out of your mouth. How?"

"She comes from a very long line of head girls, and her parents basically funded the whole renovation of the school a few years back."

"Okay, so? What has _she_ done for this school?"

Beatrice looked ahead at Lilith, who was gesturing rudely to Mary. "I'm not sure."

"Are Head Girl positions open?"

"I-" and Beatrice felt fearful for a moment. "Yes."

A sly grin split open Ava's lips. "Cool."

"Ava... What are you planning?"

"Oh, nothing. Don't you worry your pretty little head about it."

It turns out, Beatrice _should_ have worried her pretty little head about it.

When the End of the Month assembly rolled around, Beatrice was sat at the very back of the hall with Camila and Mary beside her. However, Ava was nowhere to be seen. Beatrice craned her neck over to look at the throngs of students who were filing into their seats, yet Ava had still not appeared. Beatrice was worried, and feared the worst: that Ava had managed to lock herself in the toilets again.

Camila brushed her hand over Beatrice's, and gave her a comforting smile. "I'm sure she's fine. She learnt her lesson last time."

Beatrice looked at Camila with doubt. "I'm not sure. Those locks can be quite finicky."

Before she could leave to try and rescue Ava from a lonely demise in a Catholic Boarding school's toilet cubicle, Mother Superion came marching onto the stage, hands tucked professionally behind her back, shoulders taut and menacing. The Fear of God, as usual, struck Beatrice at the sight of Mother Superion and her cane in all her Catholic glory. And, Ava was still nowhere to be seen.

"Attention." Mother Superion's booming voice forced everyone to a standstill. Not a murmur escaped.

With practiced drama, Mother Superion slowly paced the edge of the stage, taking a moment to look piercingly at the unfortunate girls sitting in the front rows. Her gaze then roamed across the room and snaked its way to the back row where Beatrice and her troupe sat, and Beatrice could swear she looked directly into her eyes, and scowled.

"As I am sure you are all aware, today we shall be presenting the candidates for this year's Head Girl."

_Oh. Ohhhh no._

"I have no doubt that, using your sound and intelligent minds, together you shall collaborate on choosing a rightful successor to last year's Head Girl, Shannon, who proved to be an elite choice and led this school to victory against the Boys," with this last word, she glowered, as if the mention of boys of any kind caused a river of vomit to swell up inside of her, "and also provided us with our best A-level results to date."

She smiled, menacingly. "Truly, I implore you, fine girls of Saint Areala's, to really _think_ about the power of your vote. And vote well."

"Thus," she magicked a neatly folded sheet of paper from her sleeve, and as the girls stilled with bated breath, she unravelled the list of candidates.

"Crimson," she called, her resonant voice reaching all four corners of the Great Hall.

With her wicked grin and plaited pig tails, Crimson came bouncing up the stage with her hands behind her back. Mother Superion glowered at her.

"Lara."

A petite blonde girl who wore her skirt 2 inches below the necessary length, shuffled onto the stage, hands and knees positively quaking. She nodded at Mother Superion, and Mother Superion stared blankly back.

"Lilith."

Lilith traipsed up the stairs sensibly. She nodded with practiced grace to Mother Superion, almost curtsied, actually, and made her way over to the lineup of girls. There was that ever-present smirk at her lips, and Beatrice saw Mary cross her arms in her periphery.

Mother Superion seemed to cease functioning for the briefest of moments, eyes glazing over in despair as she looked at the final name on her list.

"Ava," she called, and tucked the list back into her sleeve.

_Oh, fuck_.

Beatrice watched in slow motion horror, as Ava, who since the beginning of the year had begun rolling up her skirt above her knee, never had her top button done, and wore her tie like a loose optional necklace, skipped up the stairs, bowed to Mother Superion, and gave a Queen's wave to the crowd as she assumed her spot besides Lilith.

Whispers immediately began to circulate amongst the lower years, but Beatrice could only stare in abject terror.

Mother Superion robotically turned towards the girls. "As is customary," the room was silent once more, "The candidates will now say a word or two about why they believe they are the best choice for Saint Areala's, and what they hope to accomplish during their year in power."

Beatrice had been paying minute attention to Ava throughout this, so could not have missed Ava's thick gulp, nor the way her entire body froze at the realization that she probably should have prepared a speech.

Crimson stepped forward towards the very centre of the stage with her head held high. She spoke in her curled Irish accent, " _I_ deserve to be Head Girl, because I've got the stomach for it. I've got the craic for it. These other girls here," she gestured loosely behind her, "don't have the spirit, nor the power, nor the _terror_ that I bring. If you want the teachers to listen to you, I'm who you ought to vote for." She then rose her hands and made a hashtag by overlapping her fingers. "Vote for Crimson! She'll bring blood and God's glory to Saint Areala's name!"

Scattered applause. Crimson's troupe who sat clumped together in the back left, whooped and cheered loudly.

The next girl's name escaped Beatrice's memory as she approached the centre of the stage, flinching fearfully past Crimson. She spoke. "My... um. My name is Lara.

"Speak up, we can't hear you!" Someone shouted from the crowd.

Lara cleared her throat. Her huge coke bottle glasses magnified the way her eyes flittered from side to side. "I..." she swallowed, and, in a movement that impressed Beatrice, assumed a power pose and puffed out her chest. A broad smile was forced onto her face, and she spoke again. "I, Lara, swear to bring honor to our name! I swear we shall best the GCSE and A-level exam results from last year, and that bullies," she swiveled and pointed a finger at Crimson, "shall stake their claim over Saint Areala's School for Girls no longer!"

The overall response had been better for this unknown than it had for Crimson, and Beatrice noticed with mirth that the redhead was tapping her feet impatiently, and looking positively murderous.

Lilith came forward. Any cheers subsided, and instead an awed silence came over the room. Mary grumbled.

"Girls," called Lilith, with a benevolent expression. She clasped a hand over her heart. "I am here today, for you. I am here today, for every single one of you, and every single hope, dream, wish, that you have for this school. I am here to be your voice!" She curled the hand that was over her heart into a strong fist. "My mother, and my mother's mother, and my mother's mother's mother, were Head Girls here. I know how to do this. It's in my blood. I will lead us to victory, and I will guide you every step of the way!" The fist dropped to Lilith's side, and she stood mightily, showered in cheers and applause.

Beatrice could not help the dread that coiled in her stomach, watching Ava glance nervously at Lilith and the audience.

Lilith resumed her position at the back, and Ava stepped forward into the light.

Beatrice held her breath. Ava stood still for a moment, her eyes cresting over every student in the room.

"Hi," she said shakily, yet there was a fierceness to her voice. A determination. "I'm Ava Silva." Mary whooped.

"I'm new here. I started in September. Maybe that doesn't make me the most qualified, but, I've been to other schools. I've not been trapped in this little bubble that you guys have been in, for all your life. Did you know, in most private boarding schools, that the radiators work?" Ava let loose an awkward chuckle. "I don't know about you guys, but every night I am _freezing._ "

A murmur of agreement rose from the audience.

"You know," Ava shrugged and winced, "I've actually heard that some rooms here _do_ have heating. Pretty crazy, right? So... why don't they all work? Why do only certain kids, like, say, _Lilith_ , keep getting those rooms with the extra plug sockets and the toasty warmth of a functional radiator?

I think it's not right. I think it's not right that the quality of living is so disparate amongst the student body. We are Saint Areala's Girls!" Ava grinned, eyes alight, "We deserve the best! We deserve radiators, and tender chicken! We deserve faucets in our bathrooms that don't leak! We deserve lights that don't flicker ominously! We deserve locks on toilet doors that don't break every 3 days! We deserve better!"

The crowd was rippling with excitement, and Beatrice had to admit she was leaning forward in her chair ever so slightly.

"I vow, to you all, that I will be the voice that brings change to this school. Viva la revolution!"

As Mother Superion smothered her face in her hands, the audience erupted into gleeful shouts and Ava stood, grinning, reveling in the chaos she had brought.


	2. clay-fired chicken

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Ava gets a wake up call, and a plan is put into motion.

"I fuckin' told you, Bea! Blam-- did you see me up there? Did you hear me say, 'Viva la Revolution'? It was badass, right?"

Beatrice held her head in her hands. "Yes, Ava. You were incredible."

"You should have seen Mother Superion's _face_! Actually, you should have seen _Lilith's_ face!"

This was hopeless. Beatrice was not going to get any work done with Ava hammering on like this. Her history textbook lay open uselessly on her desk, mocking her, taunting her. Saying: You have an essay due in two days, but you'll be declared clinically insane if your roommate doesn't shut up.

After Mother Superion had tapped her cane thrice upon the stage, bellowed out to the hall for everyone to calm themselves, the school day had gone on as usual. Except, Ava hadn't stopped talking about how cool she was. Except, she was hatching mischievous plans with Mary to sabotage Crimson's campaign. It was concerning. But, what was even more concerning, was the sheer number of random girls that had come up to Ava and thanked her for finally voicing the years long plight of the student body: the radiators. Beatrice could not believe her ears.

"I think I'm gonna win this thing. I think I actually have a shot at this, Bea."

Beatrice turned to look at her, praying that God's benevolence would see her through to an A* on her history essay. 

She took a deep breath. "Ava."

Ava had been sat at her own desk, except instead of working she was spinning around in her chair.

"Yeah, boss?"

"Don't get me wrong." Beatrice swallowed. "I am so, so happy for you. I'm so proud of you. You've accomplished what no other Head Girl candidate has been able to: that is, cause a miniature riot in the Great Hall. I was simultaneously sitting in complete horror, and complete awe at your determination, and the sheer will you manage to possess in your tiny little frame."

Ava was blushing _hard_ , "Gee, thanks, Beatrice. I mean, yeah I know, but it's nice to hear it from another-"

" _But_ ," and Ava's eyes snapped up to look at Beatrice's, "this is just the beginning. The position of Head Girl is a taxing one. You'll be organizing fundraisers and prom night while also studying for your A-level's. You'll have meetings after lessons and at lunch most days. You'll be pestered constantly by the prefects _and_ the teachers. You're not gonna have a life. Those parties you're so keen on? Say goodbye to them. JC? You won't even have time to text him anymore. Being able to put Head Girl on your uni applications comes at a cost."

Ava was starting to look a little scared.

"Mary, Camila, Lilith and I were all friends with Shannon. We saw what it did to her, you know." Beatrice closed her eyes, her brow furrowing. "I don't doubt for a second that you are perfectly capable of stepping up to the mantle, but this is a really big commitment. You need to decide if you're ready for this or not." 

Ava was silent for a while, but before Beatrice could turn and continue her essay, she spoke. 

"Thank you for warning me, Beatrice." A deep crease formed between her eyebrows, and Beatrice had to grasp her skirt to not reach over and smooth it. "You're right. Maybe I'm not ready for this after all."

Beatrice stood to try and stop her, but Ava was already out the door. 

* * *

It's fine, Beatrice reasoned with herself. She'll see Ava at dinner. 

But Beatrice did not see Ava at dinner. In fact, Ava was no where to be found. 

She searched the toilets, the showers, Ava's classrooms. The staff room, their dorm room, the gardens, even the kitchens.

Nothing. 

Beatrice ate her meal in silence, leaving half of it to go to waste. The worst scenario possible had been roiling through her mind, and the thought of a Yorkshire pudding made her feel nauseous. 

What if Ava had left? 

She knew it was ridiculous: you can't just _leave_ Saint Areala's. There's paperwork for that. But Ava had been with them as Beatrice, Mary and Camila snuck out that night for the party at the field, and she'd seen the routes they'd taken to avoid the cameras and security. It was a twenty minute walk down to town, and there was one evening bus that came around dinnertime and traveled between here and the big city close by. If Ava had managed to sneak back into their room to grab some cash as Beatrice was off searching for her, Ava could have already completed her escape

Beatrice emptied her leftovers into the compost bin, and bid a quiet goodnight to Camila and Mary before she retired to bed.

The thing is, as much as Ava just... leaving, was a possibility, it was also so rude of Beatrice to think Ava capable of it. As much as she tended to run from her problems, Beatrice had seen numerous times when Ava had turned and fought with enough tenacity to rival Lilith's. Inaccurate gradings on homeworks, unfairly allocated detentions, injustices against her peers, and now this. With Ava's declaration as an official candidate for Head Girl, she had said to the student body that she was staying, and she would fight.

Beatrice shouldered open the door to her room, and deflated when she did not see Ava there.

Any attempt to sleep was met with Beatrice staring forlornly at Ava's perpetually unmade bed, and the posters she had tacked to the wall, and her alarm clock that drove Beatrice insane. It was a little clay-fired chicken, that cuckoo'd every day at 6:30 on the spot, and was snoozed about 5 times in a row after that.

This was ridiculous. Beatrice wasn't going to get to sleep like this.

With a grumble, she toed on her slippers and bundled up in her winter coat. The forbidden staircase on her floor that was never actually locked, led to the roof. It was a well guarded secret that Beatrice would make frequent use of whenever she struggled to sleep, because the skies at night in the British countryside, save for when it stormed or fogged, seemed filled to the brim with stars.

She tip-tapped up the stairs and reached to open the door to the roof-- only, it was already open. A couple steps forward, and Beatrice saw Ava.

Trying to light a cigarette.

"Ava!"

Ava _jumped_ and the cigarette went flying out of her hand over the side of the barrier, down and down to its sad demise.

"Bea?" Ava squeaked.

"Ava--" Beatrice was furious, "was that a _cigarette_ I just saw?"

"No?"

Beatrice growled, and stormed over to Ava to confiscate the lighter that now hung limply in Ava's hand.

"Give."

Ava pouted and held the lighter to her chest.

"No."

"Ava."

Ava glared at her, then relented. Their hands brushed as the contraband was handed over, and Beatrice tucked it quickly into her pocket.

"Ava, what were you thinking?"

Ava huffed and turned to rest her elbows on the half-wall of the roof.

"Ava..." Beatrice said, softer this time. She joined Ava against the wall and looked at her expectantly.

"I don't-- I don't smoke, okay! I just-- it's what people do in movies when they're stressed, right?"

Beatrice was confused.

"So I snuck into the teachers lounge and found the Confiscated Items box and found this pack of cigs," Ava pulled out said packet, "and that lighter."

"You did all this so you could... recreate a scene from a movie?"

"No!" Ava sighed. "Yeah."

This feeling began to bubble inside of Beatrice, low in her stomach at first, then tight in her chest, and she let loose a burst of laughter.

"Hey!" Ava looked genuinely distressed, "Don't laugh at me!"

Which only served to make Beatrice laugh harder, her limbs shaking as she tried her best to reel it in. She buried her face in her arms to hide her reddening face from Ava, but the laughter would not subside.

"Beatrice, hey! Bea!"

"You're ridiculous, Ava." Beatrice breathed out. She turned her head from her arms to look up at Ava, who stood, blushing and stammering and looking like a petulant child.

"And you're laughing at my misfortune. It's very insensitive."

"And you're an idiot."

Ava looked about to protest, then closed her mouth and sighed with a smile. "Yeah, I'm an idiot."

Beatrice had to look away to hide her grin.

"It's just... I don't know." Ava said. "All my life, I've run from my problems, you know? It's just easier that way. But here, it feels different. I feel like I need to be different. I can't just... run."

Beatrice sobered up quickly when she realized the conversation had turned serious.

Ava frowned and looked out into the night. They could see their little town from here, dotted windows illuminated in a comfy glow. The sky was bright with the sheer number of stars visible, yet every so often a cloud would pass by.

"I've never really known how to deal with my problems, I think. I didn't know what else to do. I'm sorry I ran out on you like that." Beatrice smiled in understanding. "After my mom died..." Ava shook her head. "Never mind. What I want to say is, I don't want to keep running away anymore. All I could think of to do was what I'd seen in all those movies-- take a second for myself and come back after a cig. Right? But no. You're right. That's fucking stupid. Smoking is... bad."

With this, she tossed Beatrice the packet of cigarettes.

"And it would just be more avoidance, in a way. I can't do this anymore, Beatrice. I need to face my problems head on. I'm not leaving. I've said my piece in that assembly. I told all those girls that I would be their voice, and bring about change, and revolutionize the school. If I abandoned them now, who would I be? A coward, like I've always been?"

"You're not a coward, Ava."

Ava looked at her. "Yes, I am. But it's okay. I'm working on it."

The corners of Beatrice's mouth tugged upwards, even if she personally disagreed. "I'm proud of you."

Ava looked down at her hands, a blush lighting her cheeks. "Thanks, Bea. That means a lot."

Time passed as the duo watched the blips of light from faraway houses click off for the night. Beatrice stood, and ghosted her hand over the clothed arm of Ava. "We should go."

Ava smiled softly. "Yeah." And looped her arm into Beatrice's as they returned to their room.

* * *

In one of Beatrice's few blissful moments of freedom, she decided she'd visit town this weekend, and visit a nice coffee shop and read a nice book. It was rare, with her 5 A-level's, extracurriculars and University applications looming so soon around the corner, for Beatrice to have a pause like this. But Camila had been helping her with her application drafts, and Mary had been drilling her mercilessly on her Latin and French vocabulary. She had _earned_ this break.

She was packing a little tote bag for her trip and shouldering on her coat when Ava burst in and grabbed her by the shoulders and whispered "get me out of here!"

"Why? What happened? Are you alright?" Beatrice's hands came up reflexively to grasp at Ava's waist. When she realized, she dropped them.

"Crimson is after me. No where is safe."

"Crimson?" Beatrice glowered. "Ava... what did you do?"

"Nothing!" Ava winced. At the other girl's disbelieving look, Ava continued, "Well, something. But I can't tell you here! Her spies are _everywhere_!"

And so, Beatrice found her brief respite alone being crashed by Ava and her newfound paranoia. Admittedly, she didn't mind too much. She enjoyed Ava's company.

Ava sat opposite her, head in her hand and staring out of the window, eyes flitting back and forth between passing strangers. Still on the lookout for Crimson and her cronies, Beatrice surmised. But Beatrice also couldn't help but look, when Ava was so distracted. The edge of Ava's pinky finger touched the corner of her mouth, and above that her nostrils flickered with barely constrained anxiety. Her roommate's jaw, as always, jutted out at that perfect angle, and her eyebrows drew together to form a concerned scowl.

Once again, Beatrice's hands itched to soothe the wrinkle, so instead she grasped her mug tighter.

"She won't find you here."

Ava's dark eagle eyes flicked over to Beatrice's momentarily. "You don't know that."

She rolled her eyes. "You're safe with me, I mean."

"My guardian angel?"

"I prefer the term bodyguard."

"Hmm... that _is_ a little more sexy."

Beatrice took a sip of her coffee to wet her parched throat. "Besides, I rarely see Crimson actually leave. She's always off doing boxing or Krav Maga with her little posse."

"And that's supposed to comfort me?"

"Yes," Beatrice winced. "If it makes you feel any better, I'm fairly well versed in Krav Maga, boxing, _and_ kickboxing."

"Oh?" Ava perked up, almost wiggling in her seat. "You'll have to teach me some day."

"I'd be honored," she said, before realizing that that would probably involve a lot of straddling.

"Cool! I'll hold you to it. I'll be a kickboxing pro by the end of the year. Who needs uni, when I can just rob people with my lightning quick moves?"

Beatrice gasped, "perhaps it is a power too great to bestow on you."

"I shouldn't have revealed my evil plans so soon."

"Rookie mistake," Beatrice laughed.

Ava's hand snaked out to take Beatrice's. "I promise, Bea, that I will use these lessons for good."

Beatrice gulped, and looked down at their hands. Her whole body burned. "Okay."

"Oh, that's it?" Ava smirked, "You not gonna challenge me to a dual of honor?" She pulled her hand away. "Fine, be boring like that."

Beatrice looked bashfully down at the table, disappointed she had not gotten to hold Ava's hand for longer. "I'm being fairly un-boring right now, I like to think."

Ava sniggered, "Oh?"

"Yes. I'm here having a coffee with you, instead of holed up in our room studying."

"Ah yes, _so_ exciting of you to come to town for an hour to drink a coffee and read a book. If I hadn't saved you, you'd be in snooze town by now."

"I think you mean if _I_ hadn't saved _you_ ," Beatrice chuckled. "How did you end up like that, anyway?"

Ava ducked her head, "It's a long story."

"I've got half an hour left," a check of her watch. "Spill."

At that, Ava began to talk. A lot.

Mary, Camila and her had hatched a plan to foil Crimson's upcoming manifesto: next week, all candidates were due to release a short written statement detailing their policies, beliefs, and plans for their year as Head Girl. Lilith, Mary had said, kept hers locked away in a multi-layered safe in her room, so she was off the table. Crimson however was a little more lackluster with her security, and from preliminary scouting was said to leave her drafts on her desk during the school day.

The plan was simple. Camila was to feign sickness during one of her lessons and sneak into Crimson's room and steal the drafts to analyze afterwards. Mary was the lookout, as she shared most classes with their mark and could alert Camila if she were to return. Ava was sadly unable to get involved, for if she were caught it would be a scandal of the highest proportions.

But, things turned sour _very_ quickly. In the class that Camila was due to feign sickness in, a pop quiz was issued, and Camila could not sacrifice this grade for a chance at sabotage. Ava hadn't taken it personally, but it meant that it was up to her to take Crimson's notes for herself. Thus, she began her act: coughing, wheezing, and sneezing into her arm. When she rose to stand to ask if she could use the toilet, she fainted. A little too convincingly. She was whisked away to the nurse and kept there for a half hour, and by then it was 5 minutes till changeover. Despite the rising risk, Ava still sped up the stairs to Crimson's dorm room, whipped open the door and began scavenging for the prize--only, they weren't on her desk as Mary had said. In fact, she couldn't find them anywhere. 5 minutes passed of Ava's frantic searching, the ringing of the changeover bell gone unnoticed in her frenzy.

Aha! She had finally found it. Tucked under Crimson's pillow, folded into a little square. She seized her bounty and returned to her lessons as inconspicuously as she could. And, for the day, it seemed as if they'd made it out scot free.

"Ah.. so that's why you were late to History," Beatrice mumbled. She decided not to comment on the illegality of it all just yet.

"I'm not done, though," Ava said, eyes wide and frantic. "This is where it turns to shit. See-- we hadn't thought far enough ahead. What happens when Crimson finds out that her drafts have been stolen?"

Beatrice brought her palm to her face. "Ava..."

"Bad things, is what happens. Apparently Crimson was grilling everyone on her floor this morning, and then moved onto the other candidates, and then found _me_. Somehow, she just knew it was me. I saw it in her eyes, Beatrice. She looked murderous."

Beatrice had not yet removed her hand from her face.

"I noped out of there as quick as I could, and that's when I saw you." Ava shrugged. "The rest is history."

It was quiet for a few moments, as Beatrice tried to compose her thoughts.

"Ava..." she squeezed the bridge of her nose. "I don't even know what to say."

Ava laughed nervously, her black eyes flicking between Beatrice's in an attempt to read her. To no avail: Beatrice's poker face was impenetrable.

"I can't believe you involved _Camila_ and _Mary_ in this."

Another nervous chuckle.

"But most of all, I cannot believe you didn't come to _me_ first! As skilled at subterfuge as I'm sure you are, you don't hold a candle to me. I could have been in and out of that room in seconds. Under the pillowcase is the first place one looks when they're searching for secret documents. No-one would have expected me, a straight A* student to _thieve_ from a Head Girl candidate, _and_ I would have been smart enough to burn the evidence after."

Ava's eyes were wide, mouth hanging loosely open. "I..."

"You know what, this was a ridiculous plan anyway. You should have simply pick-pocketed the letter before she gave it to Mother Superion, and she'd have been flustered and embarrassed herself. It would have left no time for investigating, and would have had direct consequences on her campaign."

Beatrice shook her head. "Not... that I even condone this in the first place. This is--what you've done could get you into serious trouble. I understand that Crimson can be an unsavory character, but--"

"Unsavory isn't even the half of it, Bea!" Ava protested. "You know that, after the assembly, Crimson came up to talk to me? She said she was going to do _whatever_ it took to be Head Girl. She pretty much spelled out sabotage with her eyes."

Beatrice looked at her.

"Bea. You know Crimson."

"I do, yes."

"And you know how hungry she is for that top spot, right? I mean, not to pull the sympathy card or anything, but she was harkin' on about my scholarship, and like, how I didn't deserve it, and how she'd make sure I was 'put in my place'."

Beatrice gritted her teeth. Of course.

"I mean, she talked a bit about you too. I--" Ava looked away, "I'm not sure you want to hear."

A flare of panic seized Beatrice's body, her mind turning in an effort to ascertain what Crimson might have said--if, Ava had been different recently, or more on guard, or even fearful. To what she could remember, no. Ava had been her usual bouncy self this week, if not for that undercurrent of fresh determination to win.

Carefully, watching Ava's expression, she said, "Tell me."

Ava nodded, "I mean, it's not awful. But, I guess it's kinda personal? She--she said you were gay?"

Oh. As expected.

"I mean, obvo it's none of my business, and obvo it's totally chill if you are, but--"

"I'm not."

"O-okay," Ava tried to summon a smile, clearly thrown off by the wall Beatrice had just put up. "And, shit about your parents too. I wasn't even listening, honestly. She kind of went on a tirade."

Beatrice, measured, calm, collected as always, raised her drink to her lips and wet her mouth. "I wouldn't listen to anything Crimson has to say about anyone."

"Sure, yeah. I didn't. I'm just... trying to persuade you that if she's gonna play dirty, then I think we should too."

Beatrice hummed softly into her drink, cogs working away in her brain. Weighing the pros and cons, the betrayal to God and honor, the stooping to Crimson's level. And then she thought of what might happen when Crimson does begin her shadow campaign, inevitably threatens the school into submission and rigs the vote. Something had to be done. They had to strike preemptively.

Beatrice looked out through the window they sat at, watching the passerbys go about their little lives, unaware of the storm that would be hailing down on Saint Areala's Boarding School for Girls in just a few weeks. Beatrice turned to Ava, who had those dark eyes of hers trained on her face, mouth widening with hope, hands grasped around her mug. She supposed this would give her more time with Ava, too. With her constant extracurricular's and Ava's strange sleep schedule, it was rare they had time to talk alone, or hang out with Mary and Camila. But perhaps... that was selfish.

Steeling herself, she looked into the tart black of her coffee. Pros, cons, pros, cons... she would be at this forever at this rate. She just needed to make a decision.

"I'm in." Beatrice said. "But, I expect that any party involved in this subterfuge will be praying for forgiveness after this is all said and done," she huffed. "It's very unchristian."

"Oh, unchristian?" Ava laughed. "You're the one that came up with our next heist! It's perfect," Ava was off it now, looking into the middle distance and gesturing wildly. Maybe this was a bad idea. "Operation Crimson 2.0. We return the draft, make it seem like nothing ever happened. Then, on her way to Mother Superion we swap it with a fake one! Beatrice, you're a genius!"

Beatrice watched in third person view, stunned, as Ava grabbed her and landed a sloppy wet kiss on her forehead.

"Thank you!"

Beatrice heart was still hammering away in her chest, even as they made their way back to school.

* * *

Somehow, Camila had managed to procure the original blueprints of Saint Areala's and the girls now sat huddled around them on the floor of Beatrice and Ava's room.

As simple as the original plan had seemed, they'd been running into more and more obstacles as they mapped out all the details: location, distractions, timing, etc. They were currently scouring the blueprints for a corridor where they could pull off the switch, but also one that Crimson would predictably use on her way to the staff room.

See, Crimson was housed in the uppermost section of the Despectus wing, and had two doors into the main school building where lessons went on. Beatrice, Ava, Camila and Mary lived in the Bellator wing on the opposite side of the school, and the deadline for the miniature manifesto was 8 am Monday. Tomorrow.

Mary traced one of the routes out of the Despectus wing and said, "this is our best bet. The other door's watched constantly as it's the main entrance in. We don't want Miss four-eyes at the reception as an eyewitness."

Camila frowned, "four-eyes is a little rude, don't you think?"

"We're gonna need to create a reason for Crimson to go the other way, down the stairs and into the East corridor," said Mary.

Beatrice continued smoothly, "the only problem is, is that Crimson is surrounded by her posse _twenty-four seven_." She ran her finger down the East corridor to mimic the potential path she'd take. "Even if we manage to misdirect Crimson here, we don't have a chance of getting to her, especially since this corridor is the path less traveled. Any of us trying to get close will immediately set her on high alert."

"So... let's just direct her down the Silver Hallway," Ava suggested, pointing at a path that came from the main entrance into the Despectus wing. "If we're far enough away from four-eyes, she won't know we ever visited. Plus, this corridor is crazy busy so we'll have a better chance at getting in close."

Beatrice looked at Ava, "crazy busy at 7:30 in the morning?"

"Breakfast is at 7," Ava challenged, "People will be coming and going."

"We don't even know when Crimson will be submitting her manifesto, though," Camila argued. "Unless we have someone watching both the main entrance to the Despectus wing, _and_ the stairway path, we won't know when she leaves."

Mary rubbed her chin thoughtfully, worry lines mapping her brow. "There are just so many variables."

"So we need to control them." Beatrice surmised. "We need someone watching both entrances into Despectus, and we need a crowd big enough to swallow Crimson's posse up. We need a crowd that won't snitch if they notice something untoward."

Ava licked her lips (Beatrice flushed) and asked, "who has enough of a following in this school to do that?"

A beat. Then: " _Lilith_ ," Mary and Beatrice both immediately realized.

"Lilith?" Ava practically squealed, "she's my direct competitor! We can't work with _her_!"

"I know Lilith," Mary said. "She'll do what it takes to win, even if it means forming a temporary alliance with us. She needs Crimson out of the running just as much as you do."

"But, but--"

"You gotta trust me on this, Ava."

"I do trust you, I just don't know if I trust _Lilith_. You know? My opposition?"

"None of us do," Mary looked away, down at her hands. "But she's the only chance we've got."

Beatrice hummed, the plan already beginning to take shape in her mind. "We just need to find a way to convince her."

* * *

Mary was back at their door 2 hours later with Lilith standing at her side. They both looked furious, but came and sat down in the circle with them.

"It's good to see you, Lilith," Beatrice said.

A muscle in Lilith's jaw jumped, "You too. Now, are we going to get this party started, or what?"

Another hour of planning and the team finally made their way back to their rooms in time for curfew, leaving Beatrice and Ava to clean up any remnants of their scheming. Beatrice was tucking away a blueprint into a sock, when Ava said, "I don't know about this, Beatrice."

Beatrice put away the now stuffed sock. "Too late. The plan is already in motion," then sat on her bed to face Ava. "What's bothering you?"

Ava sighed, and kicked the floor.

"If it's about how unethical it is, you didn't seem to have any qualms about sneaking into her room and stealing the manifesto drafts yourself."

"No, it's not that." Ava looked up and zero'ed in on the empty spot beside Beatrice on her bed. "Can I?"

Beatrice felt her body warm, "What?"

"Sit next to you."

A beat. "Okay."

Ava shuffled over, taking a blanket to wrap around her shoulders. Gently, she sank onto Beatrice's bed and rested her back against the wall, almost as if moving too suddenly would change Beatrice's mind. It might have.

"Wow. Your bed is actually comfier than mine."

"I highly doubt that."

"It's true! My butt feels so held."

Beatrice rolled her eyes and felt herself relax slightly from the rigid position she'd been in, leaning back against the wall to join Ava. Their arms were touching.

"So, what's bothering you?"

Ava delayed by playing with the threads of her blanket, twiddling them between her fingers. Beatrice had to nudge her with her foot to get her to talk, finally. "I don't like how I'm not doing anything."

Beatrice frowned. "What do you mean?"

"You guys are risking getting into serious trouble for _me_. I'm not sure I deserve this much faith. What if they get caught, or even worse, they succeed. And I become Head Girl and I'm not the right fit for it? What if Crimson actually _would_ make a super nice and benevolent leader?"

"Just because we might succeed in this little ploy doesn't mean you'll be Head Girl."

Ava pouted, "hey. Ye of little faith, here."

"I didn't mean I don't have faith in you. I mean that there are so many variables and possibilities going on that we can't control all of them. Looking back, Shannon was the victim of many attempts on her campaign too. For all we know, Lara is hatching her own evil plan of sabotage and tomorrow on your way to Mother Superion _you'll_ be pickpocketed too."

Ava laughed, then panicked when she realized that was a possibility. Beatrice allowed herself to brush her fingers over the inside of Ava's forearm to calm her. "The only reason we're taking Crimson out of the running _now_ is because we all know her. Very well."

"Yeah. She sucks."

"Who knows what she'll do to get the Head Girl position. And who knows what she'll do if she gets it. Saint Areala's would probably be thrown into an age of tyranny."

"She'd probably have me expelled."

"Probably." Beatrice drew her hand back, and rested it neatly in her lap. "Tomorrow, the position will be left open to Lara, Lilith, and you. Any of those options are better than Crimson. Even Lilith."

"I thought you guys hated her."

"No," Beatrice sighed. "We don't hate her. Only, last year, Mary and Lilith... had a falling out."

"Oh?" Ava's inquisitive eyes came up to meet hers. Her voice ticked up as if she was about to hear some very juicy gossip. "What happened?"

"I'm not entirely certain myself, but I think it had to do something with Shannon."

"The last Head Girl?"

"Yes. It was awful. So much shouting, and now Shannon is off traveling the world on a Gap Year. Neither of them have heard from her since."

"She's missing??"

"No, she's just up in the Himalayan mountains with no signal."

"Oh. Phew."

"Whatever the issue was, Lilith and Mary have been distant since. But perhaps this could give them a chance to reconnect."

"Yeah, maybe."

Beatrice gave her a soft smile, and Ava returned it earnestly.

"I know it's hard to sit on the sidelines and watch your friends risk their education for you, but you're needed elsewhere."

Ava looked at her with doubt.

"Trust your team. Trust _me_."

Ava let loose a long, long sigh, but finally said, "I do. I trust you a lot, Bea. I feel like I can trust you with anything."

Beatrice swallowed the guilt that was threatening to spill from her throat. The feelings that were burgeoning for the other girl swam restlessly in her stomach, but still, she managed, "thank you. I trust you, too."

Ava sighed contently, and then rested her head on the crook of Beatrice's shoulder, closing her eyes. Beatrice froze, heart thumping erratically, until Ava seemed like she'd be staying and Beatrice, in a move that sent fear spiking through her body, rested her own head upon Ava's. 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> crimson's not gonna know wot hit her


	3. suck it, bitches

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> The plan is executed, and the girls partake in a football competition.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> hi guys, just wanted to say a big thank you for all the lovely comments you've left so far. really warms my heart and keeps me motivated!

It was time.

Beatrice did one final read through of Ava's manifesto: it was short, sweet, and very determined. She could feel the passion swimming in Ava's words. Passion to make this school a better place: More scholarships, more fundraisers, more equal opportunity. Working radiators for all. It was eloquently written, and Beatrice felt a smile warm her lips as she finished reading. All of it was in Ava's hand. She had needed no help.

"It's perfect, Ava."

Ava's eyes shone with delight at the praise, hands glued to her legs in an effort to keep still. "You think?"

"Yes. You certainly have my vote."

"Well, I'd fuckin' hope so!" Ava's grin illuminated her entire face. She looked positively giddy.

"I honestly don't even know if sabotaging Crimson is worth it. You could probably win regardless."

Ava shrugged, a newfound confidence rolling off her shoulders. "Probably. But this is fun. She's been a total bitch."

"Language."

"Yeah, yeah. So. We ready for this shindig?"

"Ready when you are, captain."

They both stood, and Ava came rushing forward to wrap Beatrice in a tight hug.

Beatrice felt the wind knocked out of her: not only from the force, but from the two snaking arms coming up around her shoulders, and the brush of Ava's nose on the exposed skin of her neck. A lot of touch. All at once.

She eventually had the clarity to bring her arms up too, one hand resting sensibly at the base of Ava's neck, the other on her back. She felt Ava squeeze, and then sigh, with a contentedness that made Beatrice's heart swell.

_Thump, thump, thump._ She hoped Ava could not hear the cadence with which her heart beat: like a bird's first flight, flapping her wings too fast and too scared.

Ava pulled away finally, but her hands still came to rest at Beatrice's shoulders. Beatrice's arms dangled uselessly by her sides. 

"Thanks for this, Bea. With you at my back, I feel like I can do anything."

Off they went. Operation Crimson 2.0 was a go.

While Lilith and Ava made their way to Mother Superion with their letters, Camila was stationed at the main doors to the Despectus wing and Mary by the stairway entrance. Beatrice lay in wait at the forked hallway that led down the East and Silver corridors. Depending on what Camila or Mary texted, she'd be going down one of them and making the swap.

Camila giggled sweetly, elbows resting on the reception desk as she talked to 'four-eyes' -- she was actually called Veronica, and was a very nice old lady who seemed positively taken by Camila and her chatter.

"So, you studied anthropology? That's so cool!" Camila squealed, and as she saw Crimson and her cronies pass behind her, she texted the group chat that they were making their way to the Silver corridor.

Beatrice felt her phone vibrate, then nodded to the girls that Lilith had amassed. They flitted and hovered around Lilith whenever they could, as if proximity would somehow magically grant them the perfect grades, perfect looks and very rich family that Lilith had, and were stupidly loyal to whatever shenanigans they were put up to by her. It seemed they did have a use, after all. 

With two fingers pointed in the direction of the Silver hallway, Lilith's entourage was suddenly flooding the space, chattering and laughing and making all sorts of ruckus. From her vantage point, Beatrice saw Crimson enter the space and be smacked by a wave of girls who seemed blind to her presence. This was her chance. She hopped down from the window ledge and surfed the crowd with ease, slipping through openings and shimmying to avoid Crimson's posse, when, finally, she was close enough. Crimson had been knocked back by a particularly overzealous member of Lilith's girls, and Beatrice dived into her right breast pocket and exchanged in one fluid movement the real manifesto for the fake one.

Crimson was too taken aback to notice, pushing and clawing her way through the throng with her cronies. Beatrice had floated down the length of the Silver hallway and made her escape down a smaller corridor before Crimson had even escaped.

Beatrice texted the group: _Swap successful._

By then, Mary had made her way over to the staff room as a precaution, just to keep an eye on Crimson as she handed Mother Superion the letter. Lilith and Ava had already given theirs in by now, and had left the scene in order to avoid suspicion. This was the moment of truth.

Crimson approached Mother Superion, hair and uniform in disarray from the Silver corridor trample, but her usual sly smile was still present on her face.

Mary flicked through the book she was pretending to read, looking over the lip and watching as Crimson reached into her skirt pocket and offered up her letter--only, wait.

Only, Mary had done her scouting well enough. She knew Crimson kept her notes of importance in her right breast pocket.

Only--this letter was on different colored paper to the one Mary had returned yesterday evening.

Only-- they'd been _had_.

Mary texted to group with frantic fingers: _Wrong letter_.

Beatrice looked up from her phone and stared in horror at Ava, who had joined her in the gardens with Camila and Lilith to regroup.

She reached into her pocket and withdrew the manifesto she'd taken. Carefully, with her heart in her throat, she unfolded the paper and spread it out for the group to see. On it, in smudged black ink, was written:

**_SUCK IT, BITCHES_ **

Mary watched with wide eyes as Crimson smiled to Mother Superion with her typical swagger, then span around and traipsed off with the rest of her friends.

Operation Crimson 2.0. had been a failure.

* * *

"I can't believe this." Beatrice had her head in her hands, staring at the wall from her desk. Camila was lying despondently on the floor, and Mary and Lilith had taken Ava's bed. Ava was pacing ferociously, only taking care to avoid kicking Camila in the face.

"I can't..." Ava fumed, "I'm gonna get her. I'm gonna get her!"

"Ava," Beatrice sighed. "It's alright. You'll be fine. I strongly doubt Crimson had anything that powerful in her statement."

"No, it's not fine," Mary interrupted, "We saw her drafts, remember? She had some pretty strong stuff in there. A lot of it followed from her opening speech last week, but the rest was actually pretty fuckin' eloquent."

Camila, Lilith and Beatrice immediately muttered, "Language."

"No, I ain't kidding. She was writing about the goddamned history of the school. Saint Areala's legacy. Stuff about how she'd been betrayed and had her name smeared by her peers. Stuff about revolution, and rebirth. Rebirth of this school."

Throughout this, Lilith's eyes had gotten progressively wider and wider, until she heard the word rebirth. She shot up from her slouched position and shouted, "Rebirth? That slag fucking copied my manifesto!"

"Language!" Camila cried. 

Ava growled, "I _knew_ she was up to no good! Damnit!"

Beatrice had had enough of this. She grasped Ava's wrist to stop her pacing, fingers coming to rest gently over her pulse point. She stood, and gathered herself.

"I know it feels like we've lost, guys." Beatrice took a moment to look at all of them, gaze finally coming to land on Ava. Ava looked at her with a muddy mix of despair and hope. "But it's not over yet. We have two weeks until voting takes place. You still have a chance at this, Ava."

"And do I?" Lilith's voice came thundering. "Crimson's plagiarized my writing. I don't even know how! Perhaps I was too distracted helping _you_!" She turned to Ava, eyes alight in fury.

"What are you suggesting?" Ava retaliated, "That this was just a ploy to get you out of the race?"

"Yes!"

"Well it wasn't! We want Crimson out of the running just as much as you do!"

"It must have been dumb luck, then. That Beatrice managed to take the _wrong_ letter, and that mine was plagiarized by your mark!"

"Enough!" Mary shouted. She grabbed Lilith's arm to bring her back down to the bed. "This is what she wants--us to turn on each other. The only people we've got now, is us. She must have suspected something was up when her drafts went missing."

"That makes sense," Beatrice agreed, folding her arms across her chest. "And it's not unreasonable to think that just as we did surveillance on Crimson, that she didn't have her people spying on us."

Ava sat down on Beatrice's bed, all the pent up energy from before seemingly vanished.

"We can't know what she has planned for us next. All we can do is lie in wait," Beatrice said, coming down to sit besides Ava. "And prepare the best candidacy for the two of you that we can."

Lilith closed her eyes, anger beginning to leak out of her as determination replaced it. "Agreed."

The next day, the submitted manifestos were pasted outside the staffroom, where throngs of students hovered to get a look. Beatrice, Ava and the rest of their group wormed their way through the crowd to reach the notice board, and there upon the wall were three handwritten manifestos. Lara's was nowhere to be seen.

"How strange..." Beatrice murmured. Perhaps Lara had dropped out of the race.

The other manifestos were there, however. They formed an upside down triangle, with Ava's at the bottom. It seemed untampered with, and Beatrice felt the tension rush straight out of Ava, who stood beside her.

However, above were Crimson's and Lilith's letters. Crimson's on the left, Lilith's on the right, and it very much looked as if Lilith had been the one to copy Crimson's manifesto. Themes of rebirth and blood rights and honor were weaved intricately throughout the both of them, and Beatrice felt her blood curdle. They _would_ get back at Crimson for this.

Lilith had taken one look and stormed away, teary. Mary, rolling her eyes, had followed her into the closest bathroom.

Camila just looked forlorn.

* * *

Unfortunately, Beatrice did not have the privilege of wallowing in her failure as much as the rest of her friends did. She'd messed up, the plan had gone wrong, and they were probably being spied on by Crimson's cronies right now. The fate of Ava's campaign, which ended in just two weeks, was completely up in the air.

But Beatrice had a game to win.

Beatrice's football game had stepped up massively once Ava had been delegated to the substitutes, far away from Beatrice's sensitive hearing and tender heart. Consequently, she'd been scoring and tackling and passing like the good old days, when she had no crush to distract her. While she hadn't been able to retain her position as center striker, she was on the left, now, and she thought she preferred it. In the shadows, unsuspecting, and in that final moment she could deliver the lethal blow.

Beatrice rolled her eyes at herself. Not _lethal._ This was football she was talking about.

Beside her, Ava muttered something in her sleep.

There was a minor league competition happening today, and those that had made the team by impressing Coach in P.E. were all obligated to come. Ava had been positively buzzing all day when she found out she was a substitute--no work, and just a little bit of the glory. Plus, she'd get to see Beatrice 'kicking names and taking ass' from the sidelines.

That had been a little confidence boost, Beatrice had to admit. Heart fluttering like a hummingbird at the thought of it now: she'd be playing in front of the girl beside her, and _maybe_ she could show off a little bit.

The bus had been early: 6 am to be precise, and they'd be making their way up the eastern coast to reach the field. Ava had been an absolute torture to get out of bed, but with enough gentle coaxing and a few idle threats, she was up in a jiffy.

They were sat two rows from the front of the coach, Ava snoring softly with her cheek plastered to the window, and Beatrice looking at the seat in front of her to avoid staring. And then, Ava snorted, and lolled over onto Beatrice's shoulder.

Oh. Beatrice gulped.

The snoring started again and Beatrice felt herself slowly relax. She could give herself this much, she supposed, and melted back into the chair with a sigh; Ava's head a comforting pressure, and her gentle snoring not too much of a disturbance. Before she knew it, Beatrice was asleep as well.

She woke with a start as Coach's booming voice called out: "Ladies, we have arrived!"

Beatrice felt a sharp pain shoot straight up her bent neck, and she blinked drearily. Looking up at Coach who was gesturing with her hands for everyone to chop chop ("it's go time, girls!"), and then down at her own hands, to find two other ones weaved into them. She realized, with horror, that she'd fallen asleep on Ava.

She shot up straight and drew back her hands immediately.

Ava only grinned, "ah, so she awakens."

Beatrice only murmured incoherently. The corners of her eyes were crusted with sleep. 

"You know you snore? The _Great Beatrice_ snores. I guess I was always too asleep to notice in our dorms, but it's like theres a miniature chainsaw in the back of your throat," Ava said nonchalantly, as she placed her bag on her lap.

"I do not snore. I would know. I've recorded myself."

Ava shook her head in disbelief, "you are the strangest person I know."

Beatrice wasn't quite sure how to take that. "Thanks?"

"You're welcome. Want to know how I woke up? A giant pellet of your drool landed on my forehead. Because you were drooling."

"I was not!"

Eventually all the girls managed to make their way out onto the field; Mary, Lilith and Camila jogging up to join Ava and Beatrice as they stretched.

Beatrice was doing some quick lateral hip swings when she noticed Ava glowering at someone off to the side. Beatrice followed her line of sight to see Crimson.

Her chest tightened in anger. Crimson was their midfield attacker for their first match against Woldingham, and Beatrice had the sneaking suspicion they would be sabotaged, one way or the other. She doubted Crimson cared wether their team won or lost--if she looked good, nothing else mattered.

No problem. Beatrice would handle it.

She cricked her neck and started doing knee highs and Ava did the same, having apparently paid no attention in their PE lessons to proper warming up methodology. It didn't bother her. In fact, it was funny watching Ava try and hastily follow along as Beatrice pulled more and more complex stretches. She was about to bed over backwards to make a bridge, when Crimson and a few stragglers from her posse came sidling up towards them.

"Crimson," Lilith spat.

"Lilith," sneered Crimson. 

"Can we help you?" It was Mary who asked.

"I just thought I'd come over to foster a little team spirit. You know, for the good of the school," she fluttered her eyelashes, menacingly.

Beatrice realized she'd subconsciously moved to stand between Crimson and Ava, legs apart and ready to strike. The swirling hatred from days before resurfaced and was about to spill, when she remembered: they've got a game to win. And she's got a plan. No use hashing it out now when it wouldn't benefit either of them.

"Crimson," Beatrice greeted cordially, going into another stretch.

Something silver quick flickered in Crimson's eyes as she looked at Beatrice, up and down. "Beatrice. I see you're in ship shape."

Beatrice raised her leg to hug her knee, feeling her hamstrings stretch pleasantly. "I'd like to think so. How is your ankle injury from last year?"

Crimson's lip twitched. "It's fine, thanks."

"That's good to hear. I just hope it won't be posing any problems for us today," she now switched to hugging her other knee, "it would be a shame for you to injure yourself so early into the year."

A wicked grimace darkened Crimson's face. "I appreciate the concern. Sadly I shan't intrude on you any longer: I wouldn't want to be infected by you and your freaky little lesbian harem."

She sauntered off, snickering with her girls. Beatrice felt the blood pounding in her ears, when Ava came up beside her, snorting. "What the hell kind of insult is that?"

Ava seemed completely unbothered, hands on her hips as she twirled them in a figure of eight.

"Crimson is of the mindset that calling someone a lesbian is the worst defamation there is," Camila rolled her neck and began doing squats. "I've personally never met a lesbian, but from what I've heard they seem quite nice."

Mary snorted, "Oh, babygirl. I assure you you have met at least one."

Camila's face lit up, "really? Who?"

But Mary just kept laughing to herself.

Beatrice ferociously continued her knee highs. As lightly as the others had taken it, she still couldn't shake off that initial burst of fear she had felt, much like any time Crimson seemed to bring this particular insult up. She doubted Crimson truly knew, as she used it on every girl that didn't take her fancy, but she had still felt the creeping hands of terror grip her heart in the moment.

"You okay, Bea?" Ava said. She was back to copying Beatrice's warm ups, and was quickly out of breath.

"I'm fine."

"Okay," Ava seemed doubtful, but too much of her brain energy was focused on her knee highs to continue inquiring. "Well, Crimson can suck it. I wish she was on the other team just so you could kick her ass."

Beatrice hummed, then dropped to the floor for a quick few pushups. "That would be fun." Then she was back up again, jogging on the spot lightly.

"Oh God, Bea. Slow down, I can't keep up."

"There's a reason you're a sub, Ava," Lilith cackled.

"Hey!" 

Finally, the match was on.

The whistle blew, and Mary darted past the opposition's centre striker in order to advance forward, waiting for Beatrice to catch up on her left and find an open position.

A quick pass, and Beatrice had the ball. She whirled around a Woldingham girl, chipping the ball to Mary who passed it onto Lilith. Lilith had that sly grin of hers in place, as she danced around the defenders, weaving in and out between too-slow girls as she approached the penalty box. A quick-footed pass over to Beatrice, and one kick towards the goal, and Saint Areala's Boarding School for Girls had just scored their first point.

Ava's screams of support were deafening from the sidelines.

The whistle blew, and they were off again. As Saint Areala's had just scored, it was Woldingham's ball. They pinged the ball from player to player, advancing up the pitch with practiced fluidity. But before they could get up to the defenders, Crimson came hurtling towards the ball, sliding and tackling and passing it away to her teammate before the Woldingham girl could even react.

Crimson was up in a flash and back in the game. She gestured to her teammate to pass the ball back to her, and in a few seconds she had sprinted across the pitch to the Woldingham defenders.

"I'm open!" Lilith shouted, waving her arm in the direction of the goal. But Crimson sneered instead, and snaked her way through the defenders by herself. Beatrice's cries for a pass fell on deaf ears--Crimson was approaching the goal keeper now, defenders coming in at her from all angles.

"To me!" Mary yelled, but Crimson kept going.

The pigtailed girl was in the penalty box now, and the goalie was coming down to slide and catch the ball from her dancing feet. Just as contact was about to be made, Crimson flicked the ball up behind her, pirouetted over the prone goalkeeper and launched the ball into the back of the net with a THWACK.

2-0.

Cheers erupted from Crimson's troupe on the bleachers, and Crimson smiled her shark-toothed grin.

"God, I'll rip her fuckin' pigtails off," Mary bit out, coming to find Beatrice and Lilith.

"Language," Beatrice muttered, "but motion granted."

"Now?" asked Lilith.

"No, after. But we do need to find a way to undermine her on the field, without sabotaging the rest of the team. If she continues like this, it would be excellent PR for her campaign."

"And, she might be vying to take the Captaincy from you, Mary," noted Lilith.

"Oh, she better be watching her back if that's the case."

But... _Hm._ Crimson was making her way back to her position, when something caught Beatrice's eye. A limp.

Miniscule--barely even noticeable, but it appeared that Crimson's ankle was beginning to flare up. Clearly she had overexerted herself with her little show, and she was going to pay the price. Beatrice's plan was coming together.

Saint Areala's girls resumed their starting places. They were giddy now, overconfident, knocking each other in the arms and grinning. Woldingham didn't look like they were about to back down quite yet, though. A lot of whispering amongst them, pointing, planning, that set Beatrice on high alert. She was aware of their reputation: many a time had Woldingham come back from the brink of loss with minutes to spare, leaving the other team high and dry and wondering where they went wrong. The game was not theirs yet.

Mary tapped her chest and nodded to Beatrice. Beatrice nodded back. They could do this.

The whistle went off and so did Woldingham. Immediately, they swarmed Saint Areala's side of the pitch, marking players and passing the ball to and fro. The defenders could not get an edge in, missing their tackles and bumping into their team, and Crimson was showing her injury now as she chased the main striker, bending the bounds of her position in favor for a chance at glory.

Too late: the ball had been ricochetted into the back of the net. Camila knelt on the floor, gasping, having missed it with her hands by mere centimeters.

It continued like this until the scoreboard displayed in luminous orange: 2-3. Woldingham was in the lead, and Saint Areala's was tapped. The whistle sounded to mark Half-time.

Beatrice collapsed with as much delicacy as she could muster onto a bench in the locker room, Camila falling down next to her with her head against the wall.

"I am in pain," Lilith rasped.

"Chin up, Lilith. We've still got a shot," said Mary, lifting up her leg to inspect her knee. She'd been tackled quite ferociously, and her knee was beginning to swell. She winced as she set it down.

"That looks pretty bad," said Beatrice, quietly. As Mary moved to sit, she was straining to not make a sound. "You should sit out the next half."

"And let you win without me? Nuh-uh."

"I don't know, Mary. Things are pretty bleak," said Camila. Her knees were covered in grass stains, the side of her face was red from the many times she'd hit the floor in attempt to block the ball.

"Don't say that, Cam," said Mary.

"Yeah," Beatrice smiled, "you've forgotten about our secret weapon."

"What secret weapon?" Ava came barreling in, face red from running perhaps.

Lilith rolled her eyes, "Where have you been?"

"Uh," Ava shrugged, "playing rock paper scissors with some Woldingham girls. Why?"

"We need you on the pitch in five. You're in."

As Saint Areala's football team came back onto the field for their final 45 minutes, Ava was nervous. Ava was frantic. Ava was bouncing up and down on her tiptoes, wringing her fingers, swinging her arms, looking side to side like she was under attack.

"Ava," said Beatrice in the most calming voice she could muster. "Whenever you get the ball, kick it to Lilith, she'll bring it up the pitch, okay? We'll put everything into place so you can score. Relax."

"And if I don't?"

"Then it doesn't matter." Which was hard for Beatrice to admit. "It's just a football game."

Ava swallowed, looking unconvinced. But she nodded and straightened up and put her game face on, in a transformation that made Beatrice's heart flutter in pride.

The whistle blew, and the game was back on.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Woldingham is an actual random boarding school in england I found so if any of you happen to go there.... hi?


End file.
